


The Glove Scene

by MinorObsessiveTendencies



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Blushing, Cause I ship it hardcore, Evading ministry goons, He really does mean well, Hints at relationship, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Innocent Newt, M/M, Magical Encounters, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Touching, Older Man/Younger Man, Praise, Small changes to an already good scene, There's some history too, Trust, Young Albus Dumbledore, embarassed, hug, there's something there, walking around London, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinorObsessiveTendencies/pseuds/MinorObsessiveTendencies
Summary: The scene that starts and ends with the creepy disembodied glove but with some added intimacy because I love them as a pairing and wanted to see just a bit more there.I looked up the dialogue so most of it is the same.  Might go from here and continue building their relationship more through the rest of the movie.  We'll see!  If I do, fair warning, the rating is likely to change.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Newt Scamander, Albus Dumbledore/Newt Scamander, implied Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	The Glove Scene

**Author's Note:**

> This is a different take on the glove scene, where we first meet Jude Law as Dumbledore and we as an audience all simultaneously died a little bit. 
> 
> I was rewatching this movie with my roommate and her boyfriend last night, just intending it to be background noise (because it was definitely after midnight and she started baking, cause semi-quarantine life, and her boyfriend and I were still in the living room) but then we all started actually focusing in really hard on it and her boyfriend definitely looked at me during the part where they're on the bridge and pointed out that you could feel the sexual tension between those two and I am in firmly in agreement, always because of who I am as a person.
> 
> So this is your fault entirely Dakotah, even though I know you'll never see this, thanks a lot. You made me do this.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy maybe? Definitely don't have to, but I hope so!

Newt peeked around the corner of the alley, watching the mysterious wind he had whipped up blow away his inconvenient tail. So Theseus was right. He was rarely wrong about such things, having the connections he does, but still. Newt had dearly hoped.

As he drew back and prepared to be on his way, he suddenly felt as though he was being watched. But not in the way he had felt when he sensed his ministry tail. No, this felt...warmer. Almost...familiar.

Newt startled when he felt a hand brush his shoulder. He whirled around, wand at the ready. Although he felt whatever the presence was, it was inherently non-threatening to him. He could feel a lot of something, a lot of power, simmering in the air around him, but he could sense nothing menacing in it. 

Still, you never knew, given the circumstances.

So as he turned, he held his wand close, ready for anything.

Or what he imagined would be anything. His imagination didn't cover this particular situation.

He jumped as a hand gripped his shoulder. Newt immediately whirled around, eyes seeking the source. But no one had joined him in the alleyway. The presence he had sensed appeared in the form of one single, floating, black leather glove.

The glove, surprisingly solid, had touched his shoulder, then moved back when Newt startled at the sudden contact. As he looked at it the fingers waved at him, a short motion, a single movement. The gesture was familiar, the same way the presence had been. He just couldn't quite place it.

Newt continued staring, stunned for several moments, trying to figure what was happening, mind racing. The gloved hand came close enough to touch again, this time stroking his cheek in a brief caress before applying just a bit more pressure, enough to turn his head just a touch further. Then just as quickly it pulled back to point towards the skyline.

Confused, Newt allowed his gaze to be directed by the magic hand. Once his eyes had the chance to focus on the distance, he spotted movement. It was a form Newt knew well. The figure took it's hat off and raised it high in the air. Newt felt the corner of his mouth twitch up in what was almost a half smile. Of course.

The gloved hand turned back to Newt now, palm extended, clearly expecting Newt to take it with his own hand. Sparing half a glance around to ensure they weren't seen, and he reached out and instantly felt himself being whisked away by someone else's magic.

When his feet settled on something solid again he was on the ledge he had seen from the ground where the man had been standing. It felt far more precarious than it had looked. He was more than a bit uncomfortable landing on something so high and so close to an edge, especially with no warning. Looking around, and pointedly not looking down which he found gave him an acute feeling of falling, he spotted the man just around the corner of the building, gazing out at the city below.

Clutching the leather glove in his hand, Newt inched his way around the corner, eager to reach the man. He knew his companion was difficult to keep up with on the best of days, and Newt was always left with the distinct impression that, even when standing by his side, no one would ever quite catch up with the other man.

As he rounded the corner, he paused a moment to take in the view. Both the city skyline as well as the man on the ledge fifteen feet away. The two together made for a truly impressive sight.

"Dumbledore." Newt watched as the man turned, signature sparkle and look of mischief present on his smiling face. "Were the less conspicuous rooftops full, then?"

Albus Dumbledore faced the younger man, a barely there chuckle lifting his shoulders just slightly. "Hmm." He pondered something for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind. "I do enjoy a view." He looked back, took out his wand and muttered "Nebulus." Traces of fog began emitting from the end of his wand, raising up on the streets, a dense fog enveloping the entire city.

Work finished, Albus faced Newt with a genuine smile. "Theseus warned me I was being watched." Newt wasn't sure why he shared the information, only that this was Dumbledore. This was the man who had come to Newt's defense more than once back when Newt was still in school. "Though I don't think this is quite what he meant." 

"No, I'd imagine not." Albus shook his head, grinning, and clasped his hands in front of himself. "I did see you with your friendly shadow just now. You dealt with him well." He gazed intently into Newt's eyes. The tiniest twinkle of pride he found there was so similar to the looks he had gotten as Dumbledore's student. Back when he was still desperately seeking the approval of the one adult there who seemed to truly accept him.

But just because Newt had gotten that look before didn't mean he was any better at handling it. The misty effect Dumbledore had created was still hovering in the air all around them. The cool moisture felt wonderful on his face suddenly, the first sign that Newt's face had gone as red as he had hoped it wouldn't. An unfortunate trait he had never grown out of.

The second was the look on Albus's face. It had gone from shining with the smallest amount of pride to a warm expression Newt didn't feel he was meant to have seen. Like it was meant to be private, never witnessed, kept in check the way he kept everything else.

Which naturally made him flush all the more.

Whatever that look was, it was definitely a direct result of whatever Newt's face was doing, judging by the way Albus's eyes trailed over his face. Like he couldn't be happier with what he was seeing. Newt had always had a suspicion that his teacher enjoyed flustering him. Perhaps there had been some truth to that after all.

Newt had to look away, lest more of his blood rush to his head and cause him to become dizzy. They were on a rooftop, and it really wouldn't do to go careening over the edge due to a mere compliment from his favorite teacher.

He doesn't have to worry about the awkwardness he was certain he had brought on for long. Dumbledore held out his hand, "Shall we?" And as soon as they made contact, they disappeared, reappearing down on the street, in the middle of the dense fog.

"How was it?"

The question was abrupt enough Newt took a few seconds to recall what the man could've been referring to. Ah, yes. "They're still convinced that you sent me to New York."

Dumbledore spared a quick glance at Newt. "You told them I didn't?"

"Yes." A man passing by tipped his hat to the pair, saying, "Evening." Newt waited until the stranger had passed to continue. "Even though you did."

"You told me where to find the trafficked Thunderbird, Dumbledore. You knew that I would take him home and you knew I'd have to take him through a Muggle port." Newt dearly hoped his words came across as less accusing than they sounded in his head. He truly just wanted answers from the man.

"I've always felt an affinity with the great magical birds. There's a rumor in my family, that a phoenix will come to any Dumbledore in desperate need." Dumbledore looked upwards as if contemplating the reasons behind his words. In an excited tone he continued, "They say my great-grandfather had one. And that it took flight when he died, never to return." A wistful look overtook his face, eyes seeing something far away from what was in front of him.

And all the while they continued walking, keeping a brisk pace. Newt was sure the goal was to avoid any more "friendly followers."

"With all due respect, Professor," Newt cut into the Professor's musings, "I don't believe for a minute that's why you told me about the Thunderbird."

Suddenly Dumbledore stopped, looking behind them for the briefest of glances before harshly gripping Newt's arms and whirling them away again. The walking wasn't doing as much good as Newt had hoped then, he thought as he caught sight of the man behind them rushing forward just as they disappeared from existence.

They reappeared and, while Newt didn't immediately recognize his surroundings, he had faith Dumbledore wouldn't just deposit them in some random, unfamiliar, potentially dangerous neighborhood.

...most likely.

They rounded a corner and were suddenly weaving between many buses. Newt doing his best to keep pace with the other man.

"Credence is in Paris, Newt. Trying to trace his real family. I take it you've heard the rumors about who he really is."

"No."

Dumbledore sprinted up the stairs of the vehicle directly in front of them. Newt following a bit more warily and taking the seat directly across from where his companion had stopped, refusing to look directly forward. His skull prickles with the knowledge of how intensely he is being watched.

"The purebloods think he's the last of an important French line." Dumbledore's voice is as intense as his gaze. "A baby, whom everyone thought lost."

"Not Leta's brother." Newt's heart throbbed with a stab of pain for his friend, knowing exactly how deeply the loss had cut her, even if he was uncertain as to why.

"That's what they're whispering. And pureblood or not, I know this." Dumbledore leaned forward, just barely breaching Newt's intimate space. "An Obscurus grows in the absence of love, as a dark twin, an only friend. If Credence has a real brother or sister out there that can take it's place, he might yet be saved." The pause that followed was brief but heavy, as was the hand he laid on Newt's knee. "Wherever Credence is in Paris, he's either in danger, or a danger to others. We may not know who he is yet, but he needs to be found." Dumbledore looked away momentarily only to return to Newt's face with an alarming amount of trust and sincerity. "And I rather hope you might be the one to find him." 

Newt found himself looking at the other man for a long moment, those crisp blue eyes not hesitating to look right back.

Not breaking eye contact, Dumbledore conjured up a card with the hand not currently resting on his knee. It was clearly magical in origin, judging by the gleaming symbol that seems to move with the card. Newt's eyes were immediately drawn to it, although out of curiosity or an desire to end the suddenly overwhelming moment between them, he never allowed himself to figure out. 

"What's that?" With ingrained cautiousness he reached out and gingerly took the card Dumbledore held out in offering.

"An address, of a very old acquaintance of mine." He glanced down at the card he was referring to, a glint of humor inexplicably finding home in his bright eyes. "A safe house in Paris, reinforced with enchantments."

Newt's thoughts stopped short. "Safe house? Why would I need a safe house in Paris?"

"One hopes you won't," Dumbledore allows instantly, "but should things at some point go terribly wrong, it's always good to have a place to go. You know," the smile he gave less than reassuring to Newt's quickly fraying nerves, even when accompanied by the firm squeeze to his knee, "for a cup of tea." 

Abruptly he stood and quickly disembarked as Newt was left to catch up saying, "No. No no no." Engine left behind them started up but Newt barely heard it. "Absolutely not." He rushed after Dumbledore, intent on getting his answers and not letting the man escape him that easily..

Both men apparate, one after the other. Newt eventually caught up to Dumbledore who had stopped, apparently giving his old student the chance he needed to reach his side again.

"No, no, cause I'm banned from international travel, Dumbledore. If I leave the country, they will put me in Azkaban, and they will throw away the key." Gesturing with the card, Newt approached Dumbledore, getting a bit closer than the polite distance he was used to. 

Now facing each other, Dumbledore's arms crossed in front of himself. He said through a bright smile, "Do you know why I admire you, Newt?"

"What?" Newt felt his breath stick in his lungs.

"More, perhaps, than any man I know. You do not seek power. Or popularity. You simply ask, is a thing right in itself. If it is, you do it no matter the cost." Leaving his words to properly sink in, Dumbledore turned and walked away.

He had made it several paces before newt had recovered enough to follow. "That's' all very well, Dumbledore, but forgive me for asking. Why can't you go?" Newt reached out a hand to grasp the other man's arm. It brought them to a stop, and got him to turn back to face Newt.

A hand reached out and touched Newt on the cheek, in much the same way the glove had earlier in the evening. The smile on Dumbledore's face turned sad as he let his hand fall back to his side. His eyes stay glued to Newt's face for a moment.

"I cannot move against Grindelwald." The sad smile becomes bitter, and the man looked away and then down. He appeared to be gathering himself and when he looked up again, the sad smile was back as he continued, "It has to be you." The voice he used was exceedingly gentle, as though to avoid scaring Newt off. A technique often used with skittish animals. The eye contact which made Newt uncomfortable, but mostly because he was afraid of what the man might see there.

Newt broke the moment again by looking down and away. He heard a soft sigh. "Well, I can't blame you." Dumbledore kept his tone light, kind with just the slightest hint of teasing. "In your shoes, I'd probably refuse too." He reached out and snatched the card from Newt's hand.

"What?" Newt feels a bit dazed by the drastic shift in tactic. And he does know it to be a tactic because it is one he has fallen for before. This man knew what Newt responded to. It had gotten them into trouble on more than one occasion.

"It's late." With a hand to Newt's shoulder, the older man draws the younger in for a tightest of embraces, only lasting a split second before he pulled away again. Too quickly for Newt to even return the gesture. "Good evening Newt." That hand was the last to pull away, trailing up from his shoulder to behind his ear the cup the side of Newt's head, stroking with a thumb as quickly and dazingly as the hug.

And then Newt is alone. By the time he gathered his wits again, Dumbledore was twisting to apparate away.

"Wait, no." His feet finally cooperated with his brain and he started after Dumbledore.

Just in time for him to disappear.

"Oh, come on." Newt looks around, lost, hand buried in his pocket, utterly unsure of what to do next.

Until he spotted that blasted glove again. With that card clutched in it's fingers. All he could do was watch as it came closer. The hand brushed against his chest, turning to tuck the card into Newt's pocket, patting it primly before turning away. At the sudden disruption, Pickett's head pokes out, startled.

Giving in, Newt sighed. "Dumbledore," he said in the fondest tone he's ever heard, though he gets the feeling he should be anything but fond at the moment, and looked away, already plotting his next move.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaaand this is what my brain does when it doesn't have enough supervision. Which apparently I can only provide during daylight hours. Sorry about it. Kudos, comments, constructive criticism always welcome and encouraged.
> 
> Let me know if I should do this with the rest of the movie, adding more to their moments and expanding on their relationship. It was pretty fun!


End file.
